


take your place amongst the stars

by peupeugunn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: honestly have no idea where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 18:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19178581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peupeugunn/pseuds/peupeugunn
Summary: The Blacks are, at the same time, cursed with tragic, sorrowful lives, and blessed with unimaginable power.[It is quite a pity that death, prejudice, fear, betrayal, and madness ensure that none of the last fledgling stars ever learn to shine.]





	take your place amongst the stars

“Once upon a time _,_ ” Orion once whispered to Sirius and Regulus, as if sharing a secret with them, “the peasants spoke of the House of Black with awe in their voices. It was said that the Blacks were descended from the gods and goddesses of old. It was said that they had the fire of the universe in their blood, that they were blessed with power unheard of.”

 

Sirius, who was decidedly  _ not _ a little baby and knew it, scoffed and said, “so? They just  _ said _ that. What did they know?” And then he shook his head and aimed a meaningful look at his baby brother and said, “I'm too old for fairytales now, Father.”

 

Orion used his talent for stopping oncoming arguments between his sons from brewing with a single, quelling look. “Do you know why most of those with the blood of the Blacks bear the names of their stars?” His sons frowned, thought back to the lessons they learned at their parents’ knees, and said _no_. 

 

He smiled then, an odd, wistful smile. “You will know, one day. When you turn twenty-one, you will know why we are named for the fire that would scorch the cores of all else, why the Blacks are of the Sacred Magic, the Twenty-eight. One day.” Then, with uncharacteristic gentleness, he laid a kiss upon each of their brows. 

 

Sirius was old enough to be worried by this action, old enough to know that just because his father loved them, that did not mean he was obliged to show it. So he frowned and stared as his father made to leave their room, ignoring the warmth on his forehead that tasted something like blue, the deep cerulean of the ocean under the night sky. But Regulus was yet young, only six, and in all his innocence absorbed all the affection he could get, not knowing to savour it, to keep it in his memory to last him through darker days. And in all his innocence, he asked their father, “does Mother know the answer? Does she know why she named us after stars?”

 

Orion smiled the smile he often wore when thinking of his wife. It was a wry smile, and slightly bitter, as though it had been wrenched from him by uncaring hands. But there was a love there too, deep within the depths of the wrinkles around his eyes, a love that spoke of deep devotion and kinship that Sirius and Regulus would learn when they grew older, Sirius with his Marauders, and Regulus with an unlikely friendship found in a Prince. “Your mother doesn't have enough of our blood to know of these things, Reg, though she does have the same love,” Orion said. “No, I cannot even tell her, for such a thing couldn't possibly be put into words.”

 

Then, curtailing any thought of more questions, he wished them goodnight and swept out of their room, his robes fluttering behind him. As he closed the door behind him he paused for just a moment, and they heard his quiet words as though they echoed in their heads. “One day you will know, and you will understand that we are not named Black for the magic we wield, but for the sky from which we are born.”


End file.
